Raising Magnolias

Because it's never too late for happily ever after…

Waiting for the End

Y’all know I love quotes. And this is a good one.

“Someday is not a day of the week.”

Quotes are my favorite thing about facebook. Well that and it’s really easy to stalk old boyfriends.

That was a joke.

But only cause I don’t really have old boyfriends.

Anyway, I’m writing a book. I’m going to write a book.

Someday.

Tonight? Tomorrow?

I don’t know how to start.

How to start over. For me and my two. Stepping out of the old and into the new—

Today Emma Claire and I took a girls trip to the Apple store. Coulter got an ipad for Christmas and he insists on changing the password so that his sister can’t play. He changed it so many times that the ipad became disabled .

I’ve never been to the Apple store. Not even to buy the ipad.

They have to re-boot it. We lose our games.

We lose Mine Craft. This is serious. My heart is beating fast and I feel nauseous at the thought of telling Coulter. And for those of you who don’t know what Mine Craft is, let me just say that I don’t either. I just know it’s gone and it was a sad day at the Hale-Fritz home.

Where was…oh yes. Re-boot.

Boot.

Like Booty.

“Mom! He said re-boot. Scoot your boot! Scoot your boot. Scoot your BUTT!”

“Emma Claire. We don’t way that word.”

” I wish I could say that at preschool. Scoot your boot. That’s funny. Am I right, Mom? I know I’m right. But Dalton would TOTALLY tattle on me.”

And I thought, yes! 

I wanna  put pen to paper and spill words and stories and truths and I wanna write my book and  I wanna shout, “Hey! Scoot your boot!”

But I can’t. Because Dalton will totally tattle on me.

And yes I know I should be writing “want to” instead of wanna.

But I don’t wanna.

Last week Ann Voskamp posted in her blog that we can’t force our life like a bowl of bulbs. (Which totally makes me think of Tom Hanks and life is like a box of chocolates when in fact life is nothing like a box of chocolates).

Back to Ann—We can’t force beginnings and we can’t force endings and we can’t force God.

And so we wait.

We wait for the winter and the cold and the hardening of the old and we wait for the pressing through and it’s slow and there’s a touch of green before the flowers grow and we wait.

But I’ve been waiting wrong.

Waiting, hoping, desperately searching.

For the beginning.

Of new friendships and new jobs and new normals and yes, for a new beginning.

God. Alpha and Omega.

Beginning and End. 

Ann says the endings always come and when they do we give it back to the Lord.

As a gift.

I’m rushing and anxious and waiting on beginnings and I forget.

The ending hasn’t come.

But it will.

Surely.

I mean, come on! It has to.

Right?

Yes.

And when it comes, I will give it back to the Lord. As a gift. Thankful for the story. Chapter and verse.

I feel so foolish! I’ve been trying to close the book; force the pages; demand the ending as if I’m entitled to say what and where and when.

And how.

And the Lord says to me.

“Wait on me.

Finish this chapter.

Finish it well.

And when that story is over; when that story has ended, I will give you a new one.”

And not just a new chapter.

A new book.

 

 

 

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